Of Umbrellas And Smiles
by Fallen Summer
Summary: Someone messed with Draco's list, and now he's grudgingly a part of Muggle Studies. Today's the test, and he has no idea what to do. Then an unlikely person helps him. Draco/Hermione Oneshot.


**Behold, my first Harry Potter fic! Hoping this one's decent as my mind was vacationing when I wrote it. Also, I suck at romances and third person POV . Enjoy! :D**

**The usual disclaimer stuff: not mine, because if I owned Harry Potter, Dramione would be all over the place**

* * *

><p>It was already a horrible day before Professor Garbage confiscated his wand.<p>

Draco Malfoy never intended to sign up for Muggle Studies. Why in the world would anyone want to study those filthy, disgusting Muggles anyway? The question kept nagging at his mind; if only there hadn't been such a stupid subject, perhaps he wouldn't be in this situation.

He thought of the person who messed with his list, and fury arose within him. He had made it obvious that he detested Muggles; anyone with the most basic knowledge of him would wonder why he chose Muggle Studies, but no, they didn't even bother investigating. What, did they assume he'd magically like Muggles over the summer? Did they think he'd feel remorse for the parents of filthy Mudbloods because of last year's incident? What idiots.

And so he'd had to suffer throughout most of the year, learning about Muggle inventions he couldn't care less about.

Today was the worst though.

Professor Charity Burbage (or Garbage, as he secretly called her) decided that the final test would be a field trip to a Muggle area. Apparently being dumped in the middle of a city he didn't know (he wasn't paying attention) and using Muggle contraptions and money to return to Hogwarts constituted the "perfect test that would gauge what they've all learned."

What a pile of dung.

Draco's eyes were wandering about, taking in the Muggles dressed in suits and carrying briefcases who looked too busy to pay attention to the group of teenagers blocking the way (as they were gathered on a...sidewalk! Yeah, that was it.). Draco was about to explode as Muggle after Muggle bumped him; how dare they touch him? Surprisingly, no other student's face mirrored the revulsion on his. Even though there weren't any Slytherins, he didn't expect the class to be all smiley and cheery like they were now, as if this was going to be—he shuddered—fun.

"Now students, remember: no magic allowed," said Professor Garbage, taking each student's wand. Draco thought it was a rather crude way; when he asked Garbage about it she said it would arouse suspicion if she Summoned their wands (he rolled his eyes at this). "Don't forget that while you have to return to Hogwarts, you must also write a foot long essay on the Muggle items on your list and how Muggles use them. Don't forget to spend your money wisely, it's all you have. I asked Dumbledore to monitor you all so better get cheating out your minds. You may talk to one another but mentioning of anything Muggle related is forbidden. And no attempting to hail the Knight Bus, I told Stan and Ernie myself that they were not to let you on board. This test may last for a day up to a week depending on how fast you finish it. That is all."

And with that, she Disapparated, leaving Draco with a look of horror etched upon his face.

The rest of the class dispersed, going in twos or threes. With utmost reluctance, Draco set off for his own, one hand on the strap of the backpack packed with necessities, the other counting the money given to him and thinking, _This won't last me a day._

* * *

><p>A few hours after the test began, Draco was dripping wet under the pouring rain. His teeth were chattering as he thought vengeful thoughts towards Garbage. Damn that woman! Damn it all! Why did this have to be so hard? He hadn't written a single word and he had no idea what to do as he barely listened in class. He was a pureblood wizard for crying out loud! Why did he have to sink so low?<p>

People were shooting him odd glances as he walked, wondering what such a young boy was doing out in this kind of weather. A middle-aged woman even offered to drive him home; Draco eyed the bulky machine she was riding disdainfully and glared at her; the woman drove away looking offended. He ignored that and attempted to walk with his usual bravado, it didn't work. For every pitiful look he got from passersby, he stared daggers in return. He didn't need pity, especially not from Muggles.

He was about to just give up and skulk in an alley or somewhere when the rain stopped. His eyes, which had been staring forlornly at the sidewalk, now looked up. Something was held above him: an...umbrella!

Draco looked behind him to meet Granger's eyes, which held a mixture of sympathy and dislike. "Need some help?"

"I don't need help from a filthy Mudblood like you," Draco spat.

"Fine, if that's what I get for offering my help," said Granger coldly, turning on her heel and distancing herself from Draco as fast as she can.

"Wait, Granger!" Draco bit his tongue the moment the words escaped his lips. What was he to say now?

"Yes?" Her eyebrow was arched, as if daring him to insult her.

Swallow your pride, swallow your pride. It's only for school. "I"—he choked—"do need your help."

Granger's lips were pulled up in a tiny smirk when she arrived at his side. "See, now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"Maybe not for you, Mudblood. After all, you have no reputation to stain."

Suddenly a hand cracked against Draco's cheek, the force sending him staggering and slipping on the slick pavement.

Granger looked livid. "Stop calling me that! There's absolutely nothing wrong with being Muggle-born. And," her eyes were flaming now, "I try to lend a hand to you, but you only insult me! I'm sick of it!"

Draco was shocked. He had never seen Granger look so furious, not even when he dropped obvious hints about wanting her dead last year. For once, he was speechless.

"I..."

"What, Malfoy? What else could you say?"

There was only one way to quell the anger in Granger and to rid himself of the guilt constricting his chest. "I'm sorry. Really, I am."

Granger pursed her lips, deciding whether or not Draco's apology was sincere. Finally, she gave a weak smile, but it was a smile nonetheless. "Alright then."

She proceeded to helping him up, somehow managing to keep the umbrella over both of them as she did so. "But call me Mudblood again, and you're gonna get it."

* * *

><p>Granger rented a motel room for the night. It turns out she'd already completed every requirement for the test and was just about to head back to Hogwarts when she saw Draco on his own.<p>

"Granger?"

"Yeah?"

"Er, thanks for helping me."

A smile lit up Granger's face, making her brown eyes shine. "You're welcome," she said brightly.

Somehow, that smile made the stupid test less dreary.

They were standing in front of the door leading to their room; Granger turned the knob and together they entered the room.

It was cozy enough, far from the Manor but infinitely better than sleeping curled up in the depths of an alley. There were two beds, a black box with a gray screen Draco was sure was discussed in class, and a door that led to the bathroom.

Granger quickly plopped down on a bed, looking grateful to be able to rest again. Draco went to his less enthusiastically; he prodded the mattress. It felt less soft than his bed at the Manor. _Oh, well, nothing to do about it now_, Draco thought as he lied down.

"You better finish the test fast, you know," said Granger into the silence.

"Oh, well, yeah, I guess." Draco was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. After his saying thanks to Granger, the latter started talking to him decently, as if the past three years never happened, as if Draco was never mean to her, and he wasn't at all sure how to react to that. Should he be happy that she's helping him, or ashamed that he had to resign himself to consorting with a Mudblood? He shook his head, shaking the derogatory term out of his mind. He better stop using it if he didn't want to meet Granger's stinging palm again.

"Let me see that," said Granger, who was now beside Draco's bed, her hand waiting for Draco's papers. He looked as if he'd been Stunned; he was still feeling weird about this whole thing, but he wordlessly took his papers from his backpack and handed it to her.

"You didn't write anything," said Granger, sounding faintly amused.

"Hey, erm, Granger, you know we're not exactly friends, right?" Draco worded it in the least hurtful way he could (that in itself worried him), but still Granger looked, well, hurt. "I'm sorry!" added Draco hastily. "But, a 'thank you' doesn't just make a friendship, you know."

"Can't befriend a 'Mudblood' can you?"

"It's not that!" said Draco, though his cheeks flushed with shame.

"Well, forgive me for thinking you might actually be a decent person!"

"I don't understand why you're even making such a big deal out of this! Honestly, did you think we were going to be best buddies or something?"

"Well," Granger said hotly. "I thought you'd be even the tiniest bit nicer. That if someone helped you, you'd actually treat them properly. Also," she said, staring determinedly at the floor, "I'm sick of you fighting with Ron and Harry all the time. I was hoping this would make things better."

Ah, so that was it. "Jeez Granger, how you ever thought we could be 'friends' escapes me. You were just pretending to be nice."

Granger looked as if she'd slap Draco again; she looked positively murderous. "Thing was, I wasn't pretending. I actually felt sorry for you." And with that, she stomped out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Girls! Gryffindors! Muggle-borns! I don't get them at all!" shouted Draco into the empty room. He wondered how Granger could be genuinely nice to him; maybe being civil to enemies is a Gryffindor thing.

He sighed and pushed himself off the bed. He better find Granger and—he cringed—apologize. Sure, it'll hurt his pride, but at least she'll feel better, right?

* * *

><p>It was still raining outside, though it looked as if it'd evolve into a hurricane soon. The drops were pelting against Granger's umbrella more forcefully than they were earlier; the wind was picking up. On more than one occasion did Draco have to grip the handle to prevent the umbrella from being blown away.<p>

He wondered how angry Granger was; surely she couldn't have forgotten her umbrella when she's calm.

"Gah, stupid Muggle Studies," he muttered to himself. "This never would've happened if someone didn't mess with my list." _But_, he thought, frowning, _I wouldn't have seen Granger smile._ He didn't know why that smile made everything he went through today worthwhile, now that he thought about it. His mind wandered to what happened earlier: to how Granger smiled enthusiastically, and then how she admitted she wasn't feigning niceness. Somehow, it didn't bother him anymore that Granger felt sorry for him. In fact, the desire to apologize nearly overwhelmed him, and he began his search for her anew.

"Father would kill me for this," he said.

"Kill you for what?"

The voice came from an alley beside him. There, hidden in the shadows and dripping wet much like he had been before, was Granger.

"For apologizing to a Muggle-born."

The replacement of words didn't escape her. The tiniest of smiles lifted the corner of her mouth. "Go on."

"I'm sorry for being a jerk, for being mean to you, for everything..." Oh, how his father would kill him now, but the Muggle-born's brightening expression made him feel as if he'd take any punishment just for her smile. "..Hermione."

Surprise flitted across her face, then she smiled widely, her eyes twinkling. "Well then...Draco, we better be off."

Hermione stretched out her hand.

"Should I hold your hand?" Draco began nervously, afraid to offend her.

She rolled her eyes and placed Draco's hand in hers. "There."

"Oh, another thing, Hermione..."

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"


End file.
